Lola Fett
by ThePurplePadawan
Summary: Lola has been frozen in carbonite for 22 years. Now she awakens, with the help of an old friend. Set during Return of the Jedi. (Pic courtesy of Azaleas dolls.)
1. Chapter 1

Lola Fett 1

She felt the carbonite melt away from her face, her hands, her legs. She felt air, and sucked it in immediately, not knowing how long it might last. She felt the icy marble thud against her knees, and splayed her palms in self-defence.

Where was she?

 _When_ was she?

She felt a hand, clad in battered metal, encircle her arm, lifting her to her feet. She felt her damp hair fall in waxen ringlets, covering her sightless eyes. She felt the hand release her, heard a helmet drop to the floor.

"Lola? Are you okay?"

She knew the voice, but she couldn't place it.

"Who are you?"

She could hear the grin in his voice.

"Have you forgotten your dear old cousin?"

"Boba? How old are you?"

He gave a weary sigh.

"I'm 37."

What did that make her?

"Am I… Am I 35?"

She ran her hands along her arms, her legs. She didn't feel any older than the day she'd been frozen.

"In a 13-year-old's body."

A dense silence hung between them.

"I came to get you, Lola. I picked up a smuggler who was frozen, and they taught me how these things work. So you're free."

Confusion creased her brow.

"Free?"

"As free as anyone in this galaxy. You coming with me?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not really."

She smiled. "That's the Fett way."


	2. Chapter 2

Lola Fett 2

Her eyes were slowly readjusting after three days. 22 years was an awfully long time to have them closed. 22 years was just an awfully long time.

There wasn't much in the way of scenery here, unless you counted the sand. And she didn't count the sand. It was monotonous, and it was perilous.

She wore some of Boba's spare armour over the black jumpsuit she'd been frozen in. After 22 years, the jumpsuit stank. So did the spare armour. She figured her cousin didn't clean it if he didn't wear it.

Another addition to her costume was the blaster that dangled at her hip. It was awkward, unfamiliar. She'd only been 13 when she was frozen. She hadn't really started doing much training yet.

"How far?" she croaked at the dark blob she knew as Boba.

"Not long. The canyon's just up ahead."

The wind swallowed his voice at the end of every syllable.

She felt the sand beneath her feet become hard. Kicking at it, she realised it was a clay sort of substance. The ground started to edge downhill. She looked up and saw a brown blur that cut into the clay rock-face. Probably a door.

Boba yelled something at the massive door and a small metal thing leapt at his face. He told it something in Huttese, then it disappeared.

The door started rumbling, and she realised it was rising slowly from the ground. The clay beneath her feet tremoured.

"Boba?"

He turned back and beckoned her forward.

"Come on. We're going in. And a warning, Hutts smell terrible. But they pay pretty nice."


	3. Chapter 3

The sand was blinding. It shimmered, tantalisingly liquid, searing Lola's eyes. She stood on the roof of the Hutt's sail barge, wrapped in a harsh poncho which concealed the Mandalorian armour beneath. Blaster gripped between her gloved fingers, hair flailing in the wind, she was ready.

Boba had smuggled her in, convinced Jabba to give her a job. She was a guard, temporarily employed.

The Gamorrean who prowled the other end of the barge sneered at her as he paced to and fro.

She looked way too young. She looked weak. Easy prey.

A raised mechanical voice drew Lola's attention away from the roof. A golden droid was interpreting the obese Hutt, and the blonde figure on the skiff was shouting in reply. Jabba's laughter rumbled through the commlink speaker. The sound made Lola shiver. She peered over the edge, watching the other skiff, where her cousin stood, waiting.

He'd been waiting for this moment a long time.

Then the blonde figure jumped, flipped and caught a flashing sword as he landed back on the skiff. Startled, Lola recognised the Jedi weapon. A stolen memory from her childhood. She remembered the peace-keepers in brown robes roaming Coruscant, remembered watching them practice their lightsaber skills. The sight had been mesmerising.

Movement erupted from both skiffs as the prisoners attempted to break free. Lola watched as Boba entered the fray. She watched as a skew-aimed spear collided with his jetpack. She watched as he soared, faltered, tumbled.

Into the mouth of the foul-toothed creature below.


	4. Chapter 4

She sank to her knees. Dug taut hands into dry sand. Tears dribbled hot down her face, evaporated on impact with the ground. A low moan escaped her lips.

Gone.

Boba was gone.

She was alone.

The pit was 10 metres away. The sarlacc gurgled, burped up something that glinted dully like painted metal.

It was painted metal. Lola shuffled forward, collected it.

Boba's helmet. Jango's helmet. A family heirloom of sorts.

It had once been blue. Boba had smeared it green. Now it was faded, encrusted with digestive acids and partly-dissolved food. Possibly her cousin's remains. She recoiled, dropped it on the warm, unforgiving sand.

She sank to her knees.

The body of a 13-year-old girl crumpled with grief. Coarse fingers grasped the metal, hugged it to ill-fitting armour.

She would paint it red. Red as the anger that burned inside her.


	5. Chapter 5

Han Solo. That was his name. The carbonite-blinded idiot who had killed her cousin. She'd had to hold a blaster to Bib Fortuna's head to retrieve the information.

Now she knew who the next target of the Fett bounty hunting dynasty would be. He had also been the previous one. But she was determined she would succeed where Boba had failed. She would kill Han Solo, for no bounty other than revenge.

He was a captain or something in the Rebel Alliance. So if Lola could find the Rebels, she could find Han Solo.

Lola stole a speeder from Jabba's collection, supposing it her payment. She tore across the sun-baked sand, growing to hate the desert with increasing passion. She came to Mos Eisley, found the Empire's hideout. Bribed a double-dealing informant to tell her what he knew of the Rebels' whereabouts.

The Solust System. That's where she was destined. If she could get Boba's damned ship to work.


	6. Chapter 6

As young as ten, she had displayed a talent for piloting. Her father had let her drive the speeder through the endless traffic of glittering Coruscant. But they had not always lived on the city-planet.

Lola was born on Mandalore, to a Mandalorian father and Coruscant-born mother. When she was very young, they were forced to leave Mandalore. They returned to her mother's home planet, where her mother was employed by Senator Mon Mothma and her father became a tradesman. The family paid several visits to Kamino where Lola grew to appreciate her cousin's company in her world full of stern adults.

During the clone wars, her mother disappeared. Thinking her dead, Lola's father could not bear the thought of losing both wife and daughter, so he froze Lola in carbonite, intending to wake her when the war ended.

But it seemed he had not survived the war. Lola supposed she was an orphan.

Regardless of whether her father still lived, Lola knew how to pilot a space craft. She had only done so once before, but she knew the interior of the Slave I well enough to give it a good shot.

She punched numbers into the navicomputer, directing the ship toward the Solust System.

"Han Solo, here I come," she murmured.


	7. Chapter 7

She came out of hyperspace and into near-orbit of the largest planet in the Solust System. Several large white vessels ringed the planet, smaller ships ferrying in-between. She spotted an X-wing among the gathered space craft, as well as the large disc-shaped Corellian freighter she knew belonged to the man she sought.

So this was the Rebel Fleet.

She donned the helmet, now cleaned of sarlacc stomach waste and painted red, and moved the Slave I slowly toward the fleet. How should she do this? Should she wait for the Millennium Falcon to move out, or dock with one of the larger ships and hope no one barred her way?

The comm system fizzled to life as the largest vessel hailed her. "Pilot, what is your name and destination?"

She stuttered into the microphone a few times before she got anything out. "Lola. I'm Lola. I'd like to dock. Please."

Why was she being so polite? She was here to kill Han Solo, not to make friends with the Rebel Alliance.

"We're sending an inspection team," a man's voice replied.

"No I don't think –" Lola began.

"It's on its way."

She shut off the comm and cursed her bad luck. Why couldn't she come off as threatening like Boba did?

It probably had something to do with the fact she only looked 13. She _was_ only 13.


	8. Chapter 8

She had always considered herself strangely lucky. Of course, Mandalorians didn't believe in luck, but she supposed that since her mother hailed from Coruscant she was allowed to make exceptions. She had incredible reflexes, which contributed to her early talent as a pilot. She could pull out of turns at the last minute, dodge fast-moving vehicles, and stop centimetres before collision. It was exhilarating.

Now Lola's luck had run out.

The Slave I glided into the hangar bay of the largest ship in the Rebel Fleet, and she rose from the pilot's seat to walk down the landing ramp. Upon alighting from her cousin's ship, she was surrounded by Rebel troops. She was outnumbered, outgunned. Reluctantly, she raised her hands above her head.

"Drop the blaster," the commander ordered.

Lola did so, and the weapon clattered to the ground uselessly. It had been the only leverage she possessed in this situation.

Her wrists were cuffed roughly behind her back. She followed like a misbehaved child, head bent, metaphorical tail between her legs. She was shoved into a cell and left alone, but for two guards who stood to attention outside. Sighing, she removed her helmet.

She had come so far, but at the last moment had been thwarted.

"Damn."


	9. Chapter 9

"This way."

She was shoved down the corridor and into what seemed to be an interrogation room. Rough hands fastened her into a chair. Then the guards left her in the empty room. There was silence for several minutes, before a door at the far end of the room slid open to admit a tall woman with cropped red hair dressed in a white gown.

Lola gaped.

"I am Mon Mothma," the red-headed woman revealed. "I am the leader of the Rebel Alliance. What business have you with our Fleet?"

"Mon… Mothma?" Lola stuttered.

Recognition widened the woman's eyes. "Oh my goodness, Lola! How…?"

Anger boiled within Lola as the pieces fell into place. "What happened to my mother?" she demanded.

Mon Mothma recovered from her shock to offer a sympathetic look. "Rain died the bravest of women. I was escaping Coruscant after the formation of the Empire, and she covered my departure. The newly christened Imperial guard pursued us and your mother was shot defending me. My heart still aches that she could not be given a proper funeral. Too many lives were lost that day."

"And my father?"

The red-headed woman shot her a surprised look. "I'm sorry Lola, I know nothing of your father's fate. How did you come to be here? You haven't aged a bit."

"Dad froze me in carbonite and hid me away to keep me safe. But I was only thawed a week ago, by my cousin Boba. Then… I watched Boba die." She sighed. "I'm here… for revenge more than anything. Han Solo killed Boba, so I will kill Han Solo."

It wasn't as if she had expected Mon Mothma to help her, but Lola was filled with frustration as the red-headed woman's face closed over.

"You will not kill General Solo, for your sake. You are not a murderer, Lola. I owe it to your mother to let you stay here, but you can't kill Han. Reverse your oath, and you can stay here under my care. If you refuse, you're going back to your cell."


	10. Chapter 10

Lola's resolve crumbled. Her thirst for revenge died away as she stared into Mon Mothma's eyes. Here was a willing replacement for a mother figure if ever there was one.

She collected Boba's helmet from her cell and followed the red-headed woman down a long corridor.

"You're lucky we have a spare room," Mon Mothma told her, motioning for her to enter the room by which they had stopped. "Make yourself at home. I'm sorry I don't have any more time for you now, but we have an Empire to fight."

Lola nodded as the red-headed woman left.

Now what? Was she just going to sit here in this room? She chucked the helmet onto the bed. It was a small room, but she had it to herself, which was a plus. She paced up and down for a few minutes, then gave into her frustration and left the room.

She couldn't just sit there. She had to know what was going on.


	11. Chapter 11

The moment she stepped into the room, she knew she shouldn't have. Uniformed officials stood around a hologram table, deep in conversation.

Mon Mothma was one of them. Han Solo was another.

The blaster at Han's hip flew through the air and into Lola's waiting hand. She stared at it a moment, wondering how it got there, then aimed it at the smuggler's chest.

Han's hands went up, though he couldn't suppress a smirk. He obviously found it amusing that he was being held at gun point by a 13-year-old girl.

Several of the other officers produced weapons and trained them on Lola.

"Lola," Mon Mothma warned. "What are you doing?"

Hatred burned within Lola as she stared into the face of the man who had killed her cousin. She was going to shoot him, that was what.

But if she shot him, the other officers would shoot her. Was that really a fair trade? Was it what Boba would have wanted?

Sighing, she lowered the stolen blaster.


	12. Chapter 12

"You're force sensitive," someone observed.

As he stepped forward, Lola recognised him as the blonde man from the skiff. What was his name again? Skytalker or something?

"Maybe I am," she replied. "What's it to you?"

He smiled. "I'm Luke Skywalker, the last Jedi. With the right training, you could be one too."

Lola laughed. "Me, a Jedi?" But the idea was tempting. She thought back to her childhood on Coruscant, remembered the enchanting lightsabers in Jedi displays. Could she one day wield such a weapon?

"First you need to return that blaster," Mon Mothma reminded her. "Then we can all decide that we're allies and not going to kill each other. Then we have a Death Star to destroy. If we all get out of this alive, Luke can train you." She looked thoughtful for a second. "You're a pilot aren't you Lola?"

She nodded, handing the blaster back to Han, who grinned at her. "I've got the Slave I."

Mon Mothma shook her head. "We'll find you a more appropriate ship. How would you like to pilot an X-Wing?"


	13. Chapter 13

The controls were confusing, but they made perfect sense once Wedge Antilles, Red Leader, had given her a brief explanation. He looked at her questioningly as she clambered into the X-Wing.

"Aren't you a little young?" he asked.

She shrugged. "It's complicated."

He looked even more puzzled, but left her to familiarise herself with the fighter. Repeating his instructions in her head, Lola pulled on the second-hand helmet which she had been unceremoniously gifted.

"All pilots to their fighters. Prepare for assault on the Death Star."

The amplified voice boomed through the speaker system in the hangar bay.

Lola hesitated. Hadn't Boba been employed by Darth Vader himself? Wasn't she here to kill Han Solo?

But which was more important: her cousin's loyalties, or her mother's? Her cousin had been a bounty hunter, switching sides wherever money was better. Her mother had been an intelligence agent and security guard, dedicated to her cause. Rain had always been hesitant in letting Lola's father take her to Kamino; she worried that Jango's influence might rub off on her.

Which was the better cause: revenge, or ridding the galaxy of an evil Empire which had until recently seemed but a nightmare to her?

She made her decision as the astromech droid was inserted into the fighter. Drawing on all the willpower of a determined 13-year-old, she launched the X-Wing from the hangar.


	14. Chapter 14

Lola's X-Wing took off, joining the swarm of fighters amassing above the command ship. Alert, she watched for Red Leader and followed him out, the X-Wings falling into formation behind him.

"All fighters report in," came Admiral Akbar's voice through the comm system.

"Red Leader standing by," Wedge's voice replied.

"Red Two standing by."

"Red Three standing by."

"Red Four standing by,"

"Red Five standing by."

"Red Six standing by."

Lola swallowed before adding her own voice. "Red Seven standing by."

The fighters cruised out toward the moon of Endor as Gold Squadron reported in. Rounding the forest moon, Lola suppressed a gasp as the Death Star came into view. Incomplete as it was, the sight of it was worthy of nightmares.

Mon Mothma had briefed her about the Death Star, told her about how the first one had destroyed Alderaan with a single laser blast. It was a machine to be feared. But horrifying as it was, she was here to destroy it.

"Lock X foils in attack position," Wedge commanded, and Lola watched as each fighter did so, before locking her own. "We're going in."


End file.
